I endured the shots fairly well. I had never really had a problem with shots that I could remember, though I'm sure my parents had some stories they could tell me about my doctor visits when I was a youngster. They however, were on their way back to Illinois as Doc Stimson placed the emptied syringe on the little wheeled cart.
"There we go," Doc Stimson said politely, "that'll be it for now."
"For now?" I wondered.
"Yes, you'll need to come in again in three months for the first booster shots needed for vaccination to be lasting," Doc Stimson explained and began writing something on a note pad, "I'll write the date on here, and you can give it to my receptionist out front."
I nodded.
"Now, I'll need to ask, your girlfriend..."
"Wife," I corrected.
"Wife? Congratulations," Doc Stimson replied, "I trust she has had all her shots... including the booster shots?"
"Molly's told me she has," I answered.
"Very well," Doc Stimson nodded and handed me the paper which had the date on it, "Now, we'll have to take all your measurements out in our stable area. I trust you won't get a hankering for horse flesh or beef while we're there?"
"Scout's honor," I replied, trying to hide some irritation that people had the assumption that Molly, and now myself as well, couldn't control our instincts.
"Very good," Doc Stimson said and then pulled out a smaller notepad, "and how have you and "Molly" been in regards to fleas and ticks? Have you had any problem with lice?"
"We haven't had a problem so far," I answered, "when we've gone out where we could encounter them, we've given each other a thorough check over to remove any that might have latched on while we were out. And I mean thorough."
"And how often do you bathe?" he asked.
"We try to shower every day," I answered, "though given the size of our shower, we do not shower at the same time."
He chuckled a little.
"That's a bit more then I'd suspect from a feline," He commented after awhile, "and probably more then what what a lot of groomers would advise for canines..."
"Tigers LIKE water," I said plainly, "There's a National Geographic Special that shows a tiger in Ranthambhore Park in India chasing deer into the lakes there."
"Oh I'm sure," Doc Stimson chuckled, "a lot of things with wild animals would probably differ from what we know of domestic animals... though I grew up with Marty Stouffer's Wild America."
"I don't think I've ever seen him," I shrugged, "I only saw the National Geographic Special after Molly was transformed and I was doing research to help her."
Doc Stimson nodded, "I'm sure... anyway, coming back to the original subject, I'm going to give you and Molly to separate prescriptions for various anti-parasite medications that I would advise you take. They'll lower the chance of you coming into contact with various disease carrying parasites."
"What would it do to our scents?" I asked as he handed me the note, "Molly and I will probably participate in the hunting season come fall and we do not want the deer, elk, bighorn, or any other animal that we may go after, legally of course, to know where we are lurking."
"I'm not honestly sure if these drugs alter the scent to the point that another animal can sense it... beyond fleas, ticks, lice, and parasitic worms, I mean," Doc Stimson replied, "but to be honest, even bow hunters are far enough away that deer would not see them as as much of a threat... until the shaft or bullet hits them, that is."
"Of course," I nodded, hiding the fact that in the past hunting season, Molly had hunted in the nude and the way a normal tiger hunted.
I still wasn't sure on whether or not the law entirely allowed it, beyond the nudity issue. Would they count strangulation as a cruel and unnecessary death? But then, so many people treated Molly, and now myself, as if we were mundane animals when it suited them. A tiger in the wild strangled its prey with a bite to the throat, which was how all predators generally killed their prey... lions in Africa, leopards from Africa to Siberia. Wolves from scattered pockets in Europe, across northern Asia with some scattered pockets going into India, and across northern North America, and the brown bear had much the same range as the wolf, and it killed prey in much the same manner. The Mountain Lion and the Jaguar in the Americas killed their prey in much the same way.
The only reason humans favored tools such as guns and bows and arrows is that they didn't have the raw strength that their relatives in the Animal Kingdom had. They were weaker then Chimpanzees, they didn't have the teeth that Baboons had. These weapons were necessary for humans to survive.
And Molly and were no longer human, which created the wondering in my mind. Would many hunting laws no longer apply to us because we weren't human? Or would they apply to us because we were still sentient? The way people had responded to Molly and the way many were now responding to me left a lot of questions to be answered.
"Anyway, it would still be a good idea to take the medicine," Doc Stimson replied, "Since you and Molly were human at one point, I don't know how vulnerable the two of you would be to things like Lyme disease and other viruses that humans can get as well. And even if you're cleaning the the ticks and fleas off, one bite by an infected tick is enough."
"Of course," I sighed.
"I'm afraid human pharmacies don't carry these drugs," Doc Stimson warned, "I know you probably don't want to hear that... and while I can prescribe the drugs, my clinic here does not carry these medicines except those prescribed for horses, cattle, and other large animals since it would cost a lot for ranchers to have the drugs for them shipped..."
"And some nut doesn't have a pet lion or tiger out here?" I wondered.
"Not to my knowledge," Doc Stimson replied, "either way, I'm afraid you an Molly will HAVE to go to a pet pharmacy to get them. I know you don't want to do this, being sentient, but considering that "animal people" only just appeared, you can understand if human society doesn't just suddenly bend over backward to accept you... you'd have to be able to alter realty itself to do that..."
"Let's not break the laws of physics," I told him, not sure if that was the right study to mention, "as far as I know, there is no principle that could effect that. Molly and I won't like it, but I'm sure we can manage."
"Good to hear," Doc Stimson nodded, "Now come along, we'll get you measured."
+++++++++++++++++++++++
I followed him quietly into what was the clinic's barn. Unlike the rest of the clinic which had tile and carpet floors, this area was thatched with straw and large thick steel or wooden doors housed the pens for the animals that were there. There was even a llama there getting a checkup with a different doctor.
"Is that..."
"Some ranchers have taken to using llamas as guarding animals," Doc Stimson answered, noticing my curiosity, "seems they don't like coyotes very much. So they'll drive them away to protect sheep. The cattle ranchers that have them, seem to keep them for their yards. I guess to protect kids..."
"I never heard of that," I commented, "they look like they'd be a snack for wolves, mountain lions, and bears."
"You never know," Doc Stimson commented, "they're related to the camel, which I've been told by a few veterans who've been to Saudi Arabia are REALLY nasty animals... and they're being used to fend off coyotes."
"Have any of them had a problem with larger predators?" I wondered out of curiosity.
"Nothing serious, yet," Doc Stimson replied, "though I'd tend to think that's because deer and elk are plentiful in this area, and we even get some moose from time to time. The threat to people and livestock posed by wild animals are usually exaggerated."
"Hmm."
"Though don't expect me to get involved in the fight between you and Molly and R.A.M.," Doc Stimson then said quickly, "I'm a vet. Much of what I've learned about conservation, I've learned from television. Come to me when you're sick, or your pet is sick. Don't expect me to fight about half the town."
"I will fight my own battles," I gave a low growl, which served to excite the animals in the pens being looked at, but they didn't do anything to cause trouble yet.
"Good to hear," Doc Stimson replied, taking a tape measure from a table that we passed and walked up to a step stool, "hopefully this will grant me enough height to get up to your ear."
I nodded and stood still. I found that this area had a high enough roof for me to stand erect and I did take advantage of being able to do so. It made my back feel a lot better. Stimson placed the step ladder beside me and stepped up it with the tape measure and lengthened it a bit to draw a level line from the top of my ears. Once he had that, he took the tape measure and began to lower the tape toward the ground.
"Do you need any help?" I asked him.
"No, you're good as you are, just stay still," Doc Stimson urged and kept lowering the tape, "hmm... eleven feet ten inches... you certainly are a tall one... though to be honest, I half expected you to be... well, you are close to twelve feet tall, but I guess I thought you'd be an even twelve feet, given my guesses on the size of the tiger..."
"Well, I've taken after my mother more often then not as a human," I shrugged, "maybe some of that limited how much I'd grow to when I transformed..."
"Maybe, but I'm not smart enough on the formula that transformed you and Molly is not something I'm super familiar on, so I wouldn't guess on your human measurements verses the DNA used to transform you and Molly. My guesses were based on averages of the tiger and trying to recalculate measurements since the tiger in nature is strictly a quadruped, whereas you are a biped. And my guess was just wrong... I probably shouldn't have even tried to make a guess. You are the first real "tiger-man" this world knows..."
"Don't get yourself too worked up," I urged him, as somehow I swore I could smell the fear coming off the present horses and cattle there. And Doc Stimson's nervous sounding explanation at his guessing did not make things easier.
"Okay," Doc Stimson sighed and got down and returned to the clipboard he had left on the table in the barn.
I slowly followed him as the turned to a sheet on the clipboard. I noticed that my name was on it and it included a fairly typical stat line.
"Some of this we're going to ignore because since your sentient, some of the details won't apply," Doc Stimson told me, "particularly since they're normally the statistics for pets. If they did apply, you'd be nearing the end of your lifespan."
I nodded.
"Ok, height... to the tip of the ear, eleven feet ten inches," he said slowly as he wrote down the height.
"Will you want the length?" I asked, "I can stand on all fours."
"I suppose," Doc Stimson shrugged, "Sylvia? Can you come over here for a moment?"
"Of course, sir," one of the nurses there spoke.
"We're going to take his length from tip of nose to tip of tail," Doc Stimson instructed, "I want you to take the tape to the tail tip. George, you'll need to be calm while she does so."
I was fairly calm as she did so, and felt her hands running down the fur of my tail. I lifted it up a bit for her, since I didn't want her messing with the base of my tail, which I guessed was an erogenous area based on my wedding night with Molly.
"Okay, length from tip of nose to tip of tail... twelve feet even," Doc Stimson spoke, and then the turned, taking the tape back into the tape measure housing, "I guess this was what I was guessing at."
"Of course," I chuckled as I as I stood up.
"You're fur... it's soft," Sylvia said as she stood up, "it's like my Siamese back home."
"Thanks, I guess," I shrugged.
"Thank you for your help, Sylvia," Doc Stimson said, "You may return to what you were working on."
She nodded and returned to what she was doing before.
"Okay," Doc Stimson spoke as he turned toward a chute at a different end of the barn, "this way to get your weight."
I followed him slowly to the chute, but was fairly hesitant to go into it. I didn't want to be trapped in a narrow space and then potentially attacked by something.
"You're gonna have to go down it," Doc Stimson said from a raised platform near the middle, "this is how we weight cattle and horses coming in for treatment. The scale is right below me."
I then slowly made my way down to chute until I stepped onto a metal platform that was larger then I was. It made a "ding" when I reached the center.
"Okay, weight," Doc Stimson spoke, "Five hundred fifty five pounds. Very healthy weight according to all the laws of average for a tiger, and you don't look flabby to me. So the weight is likely muscle."
"I try to keep in shape," I told him as I was then allowed to leave the chute.
"Of course, it's a good thing to do, human or animal," Doc Stimson replied, "If I were as big as you, I'd have so much fat that I couldn't stand..."
"A wonderful mental image you give people, Doc," I said slowly, not liking the picture of seeing anyone that overweight.
"Sorry," Doc Stimson replied, "but we have all that we can fill out for now. You can tell Officer Howard that you're clear to go, provided he gives you the time to get the booster shots."
I nodded and thanked him. I didn't like the fact that the only person who would see me was a vet, but I had no choice. And, Doc Stimson seemed like a fairly respectable person. If I had to see him, I wouldn't mind all that much.
+++++++++++++++++++
Molly was fairly intrigued by my appointment and how it went. She wasn't pleased with the fact that the only person who would treat us was a vet, but we both knew that nothing could be done about that for the moment. The best we could do was simply deal with it.
"So, you seemed to have a good time," Molly said in a half teasing voice.
"The Doc is fairly friendly, and seemed to voice things in a way that he understood our predicament," I replied.
"If only there were more like him."
I slowly nodded, "Yeah... but then no one else carries the rabies vaccine, so... there was no choice there."
Molly nodded.
"He also decided to take some measurements," I added.
"Wasn't that done already?"
"That was clothing measurements," I told her, "this was height, length, weight."
"And what do you measure up to?" Molly inquired.
"Eleven feet ten inches tall, twelve feet long, five hundred fifty five pounds," I gave her the measurements that Doc Stimson had taken, "What about you? The guys that gave you your shots had to have done the same thing."
Molly backed away, looking for an escape.
"Molly, you're the most beautiful person I know," I told her, "I won't judge you."
"Nine feet tall even, nine feet long even, three hundred ninety two pounds," Molly answered slowly.
"And nearly all of it sexy looking muscle," I pulled her to me, "A strong and beautiful tigress."
"George..." Molly replied and gave me a loving nuzzle.